


Brother Mine

by k0daavzii



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, my editor admitted to tearing up a bit, no spoilers but it's bittersweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k0daavzii/pseuds/k0daavzii
Summary: Saris makes his way through the mirror to an abandoned tower, searching for a certain book. But he finds more than he was looking for.





	Brother Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this over a year ago, finally got through the final edit. 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful editor for patiently highlighting every time I used "dark". Which was, of course, too many.

Saris stepped through the Eluvian, his footsteps almost silent on the stone floor. His blue eyes scanned the small, depressingly dark room he appeared in. A storage closet, by the looks of it. Crates stacked in corners, old and broken furniture haphazardly lying about, a rug rolled up and slumped against the wall. Everything covered in a layer of fine dust. 

“Don't keep us waiting,” a petulant, but warm, voice came from behind him.

He turned his head to smirk at his raven-haired companion, who was just a little over halfway through the surface of the mirror. He also smiled at the small boy who clung to her side, just poking his head through the glass. They would have to wait here. 

“I won't, love. Just stay safe,” he said to the woman. 

She frowned, but gave a nod and retreated through the mirror with their son following obediently.

Saris paused for a breath before heading to the door of the room, illuminated by the glowing Eluvian. It proved not to be locked--something he was immensely grateful for--and he carefully pushed it open. The doorway led up a dimly lit set of stairs.

He didn't dare light his staff to guide him. It remained uncertain whether this tower was truly abandoned. Almost instinctively he reached to pick up the hem of his robe… but he had none. He had long ago found different clothes to wear. Boots instead of shoes. Light armor instead of robes. A griffin crest, rather than the symbol of the circle...

Still, his action startled him. He had not done it since he left Kinloch all those years ago. He chuckled at himself to ease the tension in his nerves. So many painful memories. “Not in a tower for even five minutes, and you're already falling into old habits,” he murmured.

He took the stairwell two steps at a time, remaining as quiet as he could. At the top he discovered a second locked door. He swore under his breath. He couldn't very well burst through the door… it would attract far too much attention, and he didn't know if he could signal any ally on the other side without being caught.

Just as he was about to turn around, he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Someone was coming!

He had to hide!

A few hasty words and a puff of smoke later, he was a rat.

Why didn't I think of this before? He thought as the door opened. The person didn't even spare him a second glance as he scurried past their feet. Either they didn't see or didn't care. Odd… most people would. He wasn't exactly a small rat. Though he decided not to question his luck, and scurried along through the silvery light that filtered through the tall windows.

He kept on through the new area, unable to stop and look around. Fortunately, all towers were built relatively the same. He just needed to make it up to the library. Supposedly this tower had a tome about some elven magic that was priceless to Morrigan, though useless to anyone else. There was also a librarian here who knew the tome well, and would be able to unlock its secrets.

That was what his contact had said, anyway. Whether or not it proved to be true remained to be seen. It would not be the first trap he had sprung.

He stuck to the shadows, only passing a few people as he scampered across the floor. He didn't stop to glimpse their faces, but none were dressed in Templar robes or armor. Stranger still… where could the soldiers be? On the upper floor? The place was too clean to be harboring refugees…

Reaching the library was not difficult. Once there, all he had to do was wait. Wait for it to be empty to transform back. He hid behind a pillar and lifted his twitching nose to the air. The room was a circle, of course, with bookshelves pressed up against the walls. In the middle of the room stood a table with a very large tome open to the middle--undoubtedly a catalogue of the library’s contents. Only one person stood in the room, dressed in a mage’s robes. The robes looked older, but well-cared for. The mage set a book on a shelf before walking out of the room.

Victory.

Saris shifted back into his elven form and quickly scanned the shelves for the book, mouthing the titles as he read them. Time was ticking until someone caught him. Though he hoped no one would care… he looked like any other mage, save for the lack of robe. He wasn't wearing his Warden armor so maybe--

“If you have a particular book you are looking for, please consult the catalogue.”

Saris started and whipped around. Then he froze. The person who had just left the room returned, several books in her arms. Clearly she was putting them back where they belonged. But that wasn't what made him feel cold. That face… her gray eyes, and dark hair cut close to her scalp… and the sunburst mark in her brow that looked angry and red, like she had struggled when they marked her and got it wrong.

“Veyhna?” He choked.

His sister, his fraternal twin, blinked her dull eyes. “You were my brother, Saris,” she said without emotion. It was just a fact.

“Am. I am your brother,” he corrected. 

She merely nodded once. 

“Is there some book I can help you find?” She asked.

“Veyhna I don't understand.” He reached out for her shoulders, as if expecting her to run, or turn into smoke. “I know you didn't make it through your harrowing, but… I thought the Templars killed you?” 

He remembered it all too well. They had woken her in the middle of the night for it, and he had woken too but pretended to be asleep. He had waited hours for her to come back… but she never did. When the bells rung for breakfast he just knew. Then Irving and Greagoir gave him the news. Veyhna had failed, and was dead. He mourned her loss for months and months, but he understood the reason behind it. Better she were dead than an abomination, or a tranquil.

But now he saw she hadn't even been tested. She never saw the harrowing chamber. They had probably taken her to the dungeon and... His heart crumbled.

“Tranquil are moved to a tower different than the one of their origin, in order to minimize reactions of their peers to their presence,” Veyhna said, as if reciting from a book. “You were likely told that I had died for the same reason.”

Saris frowned, but not at Veyhna. Oh no, he could not be angry with her. It wasn't her fault. It was Irving’s fault, and Greagoir’s fault! They did this to her!

“I can see you are troubled,” Veyhna said, almost sounding concerned. But Saris was likely imagining it. “I shall go attend to other duties.”

“No! No, please.” She tried leaving his grasp but he clutched at her shoulders, and she stopped. “Please, don't go!” He gasped. “I… I haven't seen you in… over ten years!” 

“Twelve years, two months, five days,” Veyhna recited.

Saris blinked. She kept track of all that time? Did she care? Somewhere, deep down where templars couldn't touch her… did she still love him?

“Veyhna… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't protect you.” He began to sob. He took the books from her arms and unceremoniously dumped them on the floor, pulling his twin into his arms. Despite how he must have been squeezing her, she did not resist. Though she did not return the embrace either. Saris wept, and apologized, and felt every bit of shame that he hadn't known better about the Circle when she died. 

Oh Veyhna… she had been so full of life, like her soul had been crafted from fire. Not even rainy days or templar threats could dim her spirit. No matter how long they had been in the circle, she had always been strong. Now she was nothing more than a shell with memories.

Suddenly, Saris remembered there could be templars around any corner. The book and the librarian no longer mattered. He could escape with Veyhna and they would be halfway across Thedas before anyone knew she was gone. He pulled back and stared wide-eyed at her. “How many templars are here?” He asked, his voice barely quaking despite all his crying just seconds before.

Veyhna said, “None.”

Saris shook his head. “No, not literally in this room. I mean in the tower, how many are here?”

“None,” she repeated. “There are no mages or templars here.”

The realization dawned on him. “Veyhna… is everyone here a tranquil?”

“Yes. Many of us traveled far in order to reach this circle. Our existence remains unknown to the templars, thanks to the tower’s location.”

Saris let out a sigh of relief, patting his sister’s shoulder. “Thank the Maker. For whatever it’s worth.” He paused and looked around. “If there aren’t any mages or templars here… how come you’re sorting books?”

“Tranquil do not lack free will,” Veyhna responded solemnly. “We have found a safe place. It just needs cleaning.” 

Saris almost grinned. 

Tranquil didn’t lack free will? There had been some times when he wondered at that possibility. Some tranquil he had seen had been awfully keen. And so little was known of the rite itself, who was to say tranquil couldn’t make decisions?

“Are you happy here?” He asked,then held up a hand and shook his head, realizing his mistake. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t really feel emotion I just… If you could feel, do you think you would be happy?”

Veyhna paused, seeming to stare right through Saris with glassy eyes. Saris was just beginning to wonder if she would ever answer him when she finally said, “If I had the ability to feel, I think I would be somewhat happy. But if I felt, I would not be tranquil, and I would not be here.”

That was as good of an answer as he would get, he supposed.

“I do not remember hearing what happened to you after Kinloch. Were you part of the rebellion?” Veyhna asked.

Saris almost guffawed, but offered a mere chuckle instead. “I only wish. No, I was far away at the time.” Veyhna said nothing and Saris took that to mean she wanted him to continue. “I… A grey warden recruited me just before the blight. I… I defeated the archdemon, in Denerim,” he explained.

Veyhna nodded, once. “Then you have come for this.” She picked up one of the books Saris had tossed to the floor in his haste, and handed it to him. “My notes are in the margins. They should be more than adequate.”

Saris took the volume and opened it to a random page. It was exactly the book he had come for! Veyhna’s immaculate script was, indeed, tucked into the margins of the page, providing explanation and translation to the text. “You’re the librarian my contact spoke of?” He breathed.

“Yes. After I became tranquil, I was allowed to pursue minor research on top of my other duties. After the rebellion I had more time to dedicate to my studies.” Though her voice was monotone, Saris almost thought he heard a measure of excitement in her words.

He closed the book, smiling softly, and hugged Veyhna with one arm. “I’ll come back for you. I promise. There has to be a way to undo the rite,” he whispered. 

Veyhna offered no answer or insight. He drew back and stared at her for one last moment. Perhaps, for one second, he thought he could see hope in her eyes. But he decided it was just a trick of the light, and left.


End file.
